


Speechless

by anxiousartichoke



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Past Abuse, Queen Alphys neutral ending, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader is Selectively mute, Reader is a trans man, Sadness, Sans Has Issues, Self-Insert, Slow Build, coping with stuff poorly, reader is spacey, rip papyrus, the most beautiful cinnamon roll, very poorly in fact
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 01:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8125513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiousartichoke/pseuds/anxiousartichoke
Summary: You're a selectively mute human who falls from one bad situation into another. You don't believe in monsters until you stumble upon a skeleton who lost his brother. You want to help him.. but you're not sure how.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i am a beacon of sin
> 
> this will be multichapter!!! it just isn't displaying because i misplaced the button ;~;

You lived in the town outside of Mt. Ebott your entire life. The shadow of the mountain and the forest surrounding it was always a place of mystery that nobody, not even the kids, joked about. There were legends, though, and there were people who fell down. There were people who traveled, sometimes incredibly far, just to throw themselves into it and accept what happened next. Cave photographers tried with all of their equipment and bravery to jump down, but they never did. They were stopped at the rim, never to even start rolling. When people said monsters lived in the mountain, you didn’t believe it. You scoffed at the very idea.

 

But you were a sad child. You thought of yourself getting on in years at twenty-two, but you had nothing to show for it. You had friends, you worked in a coffee shop and you didn’t mind. You didn’t have any real extraordinary talents or skills, but you were pretty popular on the internet. You wanted to become a game streamer, or somehow end up famous. In fact, a lot of your life goals mysteriously surrounded the idea of fame. 

You lived with your mom and you tolerated each other. She was more of your housemate than your parent, not by age but rather your interactions. It was always cold. It’d been that way for years, but it was starting to get to you. More particularly, as soon as you brought up something troubling you, it was dismissed. She made it sound like she was more affected and suffered for it, despite the smallest of worries. She spent all of her money, and your’s, on things she wanted, and complained about it when things were tight. You never told her about half of your life. You didn’t tell her you were accepted into the community college, or that you planned to get an apartment in a different country with your friends. She fueled your anxiety with her empty threats of kicking you out, and this was with a rocky enough past.

 

You.. really didn’t like her, but you had no place else to go.

 

You told her you were trans, though, after so many years of being in the closet, and the first thing that came to her mind was cost. She mourned the loss of her daughter and did her best to prove you wrong. She wasn’t losing or gaining anything, you said, but it wasn’t enough. The more you explained, the worse it got. You elected to stop. You ruined your sleep and work schedule just to avoid her. It got so bad, you went weeks at a time without saying a single word, even around others. You hated your voice. You hated how it was treated. You hated the very words you spoke. You hated how whenever it was time to schedule doctor’s appointments, therapy, whatever else, there suddenly wasn’t enough money to do it, nor enough time. They were canceled, phone calls ignored. Even when you took it upon yourself to set things up, they vanished. It wasn’t your fault you were “like this.” You didn’t want to be “like this.” Your existence, no matter what you did, was not an inconvenience and should not be treated as such.

 

You didn’t know how to confront her, per usual.

 

So you didn’t.

 

And this grew for six years until you, now standing at the top of Mt. Ebott with a messenger bag full of snacks, a note, and your antidepressants, decided you had enough.

 

You stared into the hole in the mountain as if it were the mouth of some great beast. You felt panic, so deep and copious in volume your first desire was to lay down and sob your eyes out. You were so calm and almost blissful on the walk up, but now that you looked down, you had nothing but weight in your chest. Still, though, the noon sun shined above you, and you were comfortable with kissing it goodbye. Maybe there were monsters, and they were nicer than the people here. You kept replaying every possibility, fiddling with your stim toys as you tried to recollect yourself. You had one foot over the edge, and it’d be just the smallest bit of force for you to fall. You took a step back and hung your head. You tried running at the hole with your eyes closed, hoping the ground would disappear beneath you. You were again, frozen at the edge. You tried sitting on the edge and slowly sliding in, like you might at a swimming pool. Still, you were stopped by an invisible force you felt was outside yourself. A barrier that didn’t want you to die.

 

It was afternoon when you finally felt the crushing weight and anger of why you were there when you finally managed to do it. You didn’t remember the initial fall, or how you managed to survive. If you survived a fall of this height, what dangers from the mountain caused people to never come back…? Your brain was hazy as you sat in golden flowers. The seeds stuck to your skin as you picked and pulled at them. You decimated half the bed by accident. You felt… bad. You stared at it for awhile, almost mournful, afraid to move in case you broke something and only shock was keeping you from feeling the pain of it all.

 

But you stood up anyways. There was only one way to go from here. You munched on a granola bar as you walked through chambers with purple bricks for walls, and a marble floor. It looked almost like it was carved from the stone itself rather than added, and you admired the work. There was a clear pathway made for moving, the rest covered in dust. The stuff was everywhere. The only sound was the trickle of running water. You couldn’t find a soul. Were there monsters, or were they just legends passed around by bitter high school children? There was no evidence to support either.

 

You kept wandering through these strange “puzzles.” They looked like contraptions made from a crummy pixel art video game, but at least they were already solved. It wasn’t until you walked through an unnecessarily tense hallway that you found anything interesting. A room off the main hallway had nothing but a bowl of candy in it, upturned as if someone flipped it from anger. You sorted through the candy, curiosity getting the better of you, and they were all licorice flavoured. You shrugged, and took a few pieces, not wanting to be rude.

 

But then you thought, _what were you actually being rude to?_ You took the entire thing. Bowl and all. Like a savage, munching on your prize as you went along.

 

You found more puzzles. So many, in fact, you came to the conclusion if you ever saw a puzzle again, it’d be too soon. You fell through the floor more times than you could count, and eventually the floor just… repaired itself? You were still processing it, but at least you couldn’t do even _more_ falling than you planned on. Beyond here was nothing but fields of spikes that were already gone, and an uncountable amount of levers. The urge to pull them was one you almost couldn’t shake, and you sighed at yourself.

 

After awhile, though, you stumbled upon a house? It didn’t have a door, but the inside was birch wood. Drawings made by children sat up on the wall, like some elementary art show. A giant, comfy chair sat, long unused close to a fireplace. Any tools to create a fire were filed down to be safer. You sat down in what you learned was called Chairiel, and wondered about who lived in this house. Were they still around? Were they a silly old lady who worried too much, or some witch who ate children? Did you count as a child? Would she want to eat you? Your thoughts got more and more disorganized. It got to the point where you forgot what you were originally thinking about, and grumbled. This was average.

 

You wandered around the rest of the house after a few hours of nobody showing up, and elected to brave the dark depths of the basement. To your alarm, the passageway seemed to go on forever. You were tired just thinking about how far you had to go down this hallway. A door opened to reveal a sunny space, another door behind that had a broken lock. You pushed on it, emerging from the purple place to find… Snow? And a forest. It was bright here. A true winter wonderland when it was autumn on the surface. You were almost ill with the thought of snow.

 

You wandered down an icy pathway. A log lay, snapped, in the midst of it, and you stopped to blink at it. What broke it? Was this normal? Do trees grow underground? You weren’t even sure how to handle the cold, let alone the threat of falling trees, or worse, finding the spooky witch that lived in the house. Maybe they broke the tree. Oddly enough, though, a lamp caught your attention. Of all things, there was a random, purple and blue lamp in the middle of the snow. It was even plugged in, though it didn’t work. A small building, like a hot dog hut or something similar was next to the lamp. It was filled with nothing but condiments. Frozen, old condiments. _Why?_

 

 _Keep walking,_ you told yourself. _It’d all be over soon._

 

The road split to look at a river, or head on straight. You thought you saw a camera somewhere amongst the trees, but that was probably just your paranoia spiking up. It did that sometimes, but you just sighed at it. What stopped you, lord distracted-by-all-thing, though, was a skeleton.

 

The skeleton sat in a soggy, cardboard re-edition of the station you saw earlier. It was like seeing someone _actually_ bring their child to ‘bring your child to work day’. It was low quality, trying to be six and sitting at the twelve-and-up table. Some words were scribbled on it, but it was so waterlogged you couldn’t read it. But back to the person who sat within it.

 

He had an oddly happy expression for something that looked so gross and sad. White lights in otherwise black sockets stared dead ahead, smooth and glossy, not even looking at you or your movements. He was roundish, big-boned, maybe? His structure was hidden by a white shirt that looked so long unwashed it had turned an odd grey. It wore a blue hoodie, with hand-knitted mittens sewn in on a string as to not get lost. Black shorts meant for exercising were completely ruined by dirty pink slippers. A dusty red scarf was tied around his neck. With the cardboard shack, expression, and strange static the corpse gave off, he really looked like death. You couldn’t take your eyes away.

 

“go to hell.” It spoke. A man’s voice, gravelly, depressed, accent reminiscent of Brooklyn, New York. You stared at it. Was it a ‘monster?’ It wasn’t a very ‘spooky scary skeleton,’ or something you’d see on the front lines of the skeleton war. Fear crept into your heart. You couldn’t speak, so you just stood there.

 

“go to hell,” he said again. He looked away from you. “you heard me." 

 

You blinked. Were you not already in hell? You thought of finding something to offer him, a sign you meant well. The only thing you had was the candy in your hand. You passed him the bowl, and he didn't even look. 

 

"go--" You stopped him mid-sentence by more or less forcing the candy bowl into his hand. He glanced at it, then up to you. He seemed confused, until you just... kept at it. _Keep trying to offer him candy, he can't resist forever._ "ok." 

 

When he finally took some, he sighed. It seemed he wasn't a licorice fan either. "do you want somethin', kid?"

 

You pointed at him, then back at yourself. 

 

"cat got your tongue?" 

 

Your pointing intensified. 

 

"...alright. i'm sans. sans the skeleton. you're a human, right? that's..." He huffed and stopped his sentence in its tracks. "anyway, you must be pretty confused, right?" 

 

You nodded. 

 

"good." 

 

And that was when he stopped talking, too. He took the candy bowl back at some point (You didn't see when), and if it weren't for his steady consuming of licorice candy, you'd think he was just a corpse again. You waved a hand in front of his face. You left the area, and popped back in by surprise. You tried to take the candy bowl back. But no, he had this thousand yard stare, the same one you got when you were panicking, and he radiated bitterness. 

 

You decided you weren't going to leave him alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Heya c: If you like my writing, please leave kudos/comment! Your feedback fuels updates!!


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